Lead Away From Camelot
by marcasite
Summary: You were either going to help me through this or you weren't.
1. Chapter 1

_For Jo who wanted House, Wilson, & Cameron together...somehow. Thank you Lori for the amazing beta and just being the cool cat you are! And yay for Boston in December!!_

* * *

And as two flames to larger flame unite,  
So Arthur looked on whom he made his knight,  
And he on Arthur, and at once they knew  
In knighthood's high resolve they were not two,  
But single in all thought and all they did.  
Twofold in strength thereby to all attain,  
Or all by discord render void and vain.

_The Song of Arthur by S. Fowler Wright_

Throwing files around his office wasn't going to help ease his anger and frustration. Wilson sighed and started to shove them haphazardly into his briefcase, simply wanting this day to end. The hurt and resentment simmered below the surface and threatened to overwhelm him if he didn't just leave.

_You were either going to help me through this or you weren't._

The words continue to ricochet around his head, leaving him both torn and disappointed. Gathering his things he locked his office door for the night and as he turned around, bumped straight into Allison Cameron.

"What are you doing here this late?" he asked her.

Cameron tugged her coat tighter around her. "I actually came by to talk to you for a minute."

"Does it have to be right now? I've had a long day and I just want to go home."

"See, that's what I came to see you about. I know that I didn't help matters much today… but I wanted you to understand where I was coming from." Cameron shifted from foot to foot. "I wanted to talk to you about everything that happened today."

Wilson rubbed a hand tiredly over his face and sighed, "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Cameron. That is, if your boss can find it in his heart to allow you five minutes away from the perfect game. And tomorrow Cameron, will it really be necessary to follow me around all day?"

Cameron crossed her arms and stared back at him, "I don't understand you at all, Dr. Wilson. You think I don't know what you and House say about me behind my back? Oh, isn't she the naïve one, isn't she too emotional. The minute I stand up for myself, for my career, all of a sudden I'm too strong. Just do what we say Cameron, there's a good girl."

Wilson sighed again. "That's not what I meant."

"Of course not." Sarcasm dripped heavily from her voice. "Good night, Dr. Wilson."

Cameron turned and stalked towards the elevator, leaving Wilson staring after her. He knew he would have to talk to her in the morning; he just didn't have the energy to chase after her tonight. He might need her help in the near future, although with Cameron her loyalties would probably lay closer to House than with him.

Turning towards the exit, shoulders slightly slumped; Wilson parked himself at the bus stop bench and placed his briefcase between his legs to wait. He could feel the gentle push of the wind swirl fallen leaves around him and in the distance he could hear the rumble of an engine. He was not surprised to see House pull alongside him at the curb of the bus stop.

Wilson just stared at him, House staring right on back, each waiting for the other to flinch. Neither man strayed from the cat and mouse game they were playing. House pulled his glance away first, driving away without a backward glance. Wilson just shook his head and slumped lower on the bench. He had his answer before House had even left his office earlier that evening, but this only demonstrated his point. He truly was alone in this battle. No House, No Cameron, and Cuddy seemed to be avoiding him all together. She didn't even put up much of a fuss when he had told her he was shutting down his oncology department. Wilson looked up at the sky and only hoped it wouldn't start raining before the bus came by.

* * *

He stopped by House's office and conference room the next morning, hoping to catch Cameron, knowing House would not be around this early. Some things remained predictable. He waved at Foreman who was leaning against the sink, sipping from a mug.

"Have you seen Cameron?"

Foreman looked at him and nodded, "She just went down to the café to get food. I was hoping she'd bring back bagels. If you see her, can you mention the bagels?"

Wilson just waved his hand in thanks and turned to leave the conference room, side stepping Chase who was just entering, coffee already in hand. Wilson moved quickly to the cafeteria, wanting to catch Cameron before she left. He saw her sitting on the other side of the room, facing the window. Approaching her quietly he asked, "Do you have a minute?" and watched as she visibly tensed up.

Turning to face him she simply waved her hand at the empty chair across from her. He sank into the seat and waited until she glanced back towards him. "Cameron, I'm sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I'm just under a lot of pressure and my biggest concern right now is my patients. "

"I'm concerned about your patients as well. It's just that with everything that's going on right now, I can't take any chances. I don't know why Tritter has isolated you, although I am pretty sure you do." Cameron leaned back against her chair, arms crossed.

He rubbed his hand over his forehead. "I just need your help for the rest of the week while I work on transferring my patients to other oncologists. I spoke with Cuddy and I'm going to pull clinic hours once I get my patients referred. Can you do this for me?"

Cameron's lips twisted down as she realized that Wilson was not going to tell her more about the situation with House. "Look, I'll see what I can do. It's not exactly a walk in the park with what's been going on." She stood up with her coffee cup. "You have to get this fixed. If you could be targeted so easily, who's next? Us?"

He stopped her progress with his hand on her arm, "It's not up to me to fix this. This is House's problem, his mistakes, his addiction."

"No, it's our problem, our mistakes. This is only going to get worse before it gets better."

He knew she was right; it was only a matter of time.


	2. Chapter 2

This is for **houseluvr **who recently had a birthday! Happy, happy.

Thank you Mary for the pinch hitting beta action. It really is appreciated!

* * *

Oh, day of anguish! Strange and awful day  
Of pain more piercing than the pain of wounds,--  
Wounds scarcely felt, numbed by the great dismay  
Unspeakable that a great soul astounds,--  
His soul that, never taught in any strife  
Before to spell the ugly word _defeat_

_King Arthur in Avalon by SARA HAMMOND PALFREY_

He sees her watching him, hand brushing softly against her side. Eyes wistful and damning, clashing with the starkness of her face. He looks away, avoids. Only looks up again when he hears the echo of her footsteps receding away. He's not ready to admit _anything_, anything at all and he chides himself for even wanting her, it, wanting them. Even if only for a moment.

Because it would be so simple to have her, own her, leave her before his life takes another disastrous turn for the worse. Because he knows she's watching, waiting for something, anything from him.

He thinks she's gotten good at waiting.

When he tells himself that this is it, this is the very worst it's ever going to get, he's still surprised when he's wrong. He hates to be wrong and Tritter has done everything in his power to prove it. House shakes his head; he doesn't really believe an apology at this point is going to change anything. He _needs_ his medication, he _needs_ to win, he _needs_ to manipulate and this time he just might not be able to play his way out of his own game.

And that scares him just a little bit.

He won't talk to Wilson (its over) and amusing himself over Chase or Foreman holds no interest. So he waits; he hides and continues to avoid. Something he does so well.

"House."

He sighs deeply, doesn't bother to look up. "I thought you had left already." His voice holds a dare. She makes it that easy.

"I did…I had, but I came back. It's Christmas." He could see the clenching of her fists through her coat pocket.

"I had noticed."

Now it was her turn to sigh, "I just wanted to make sure you had somewhere to go, people to be with."

"Because you _care._" He couldn't avoid the taunt, couldn't stop the remark had he wanted to.

"Yes." It was a whisper, so soft he strained to hear it. "I-Merry Christmas, House."

He watches her turn to leave and thinks (yes) it could be so easy.

* * *

It was a wake up call, the overdose was. He remembers the sound of Wilson's voice calling to him, he thinks a door slammed and he knows _O Holy Night_ was playing somewhere in the background. What he doesn't want to remember is how close he came to dying and if it was, perhaps, intentional. That is something he thinks he can address later.

But he wonders if there are such things as second chances, because he knows that he has used up all of his, and he watches the weeks continue to move by in blur and he thinks maybe he might have gotten away with it. Wilson avoids him (and that just might be ok) and Cuddy is watching like a hawk. The more things change, the more things stay the same. Except for her. She's changing, its subtle but its there. She moves quietly and she's not pushing him anymore. Not for anything, and a part of him wonders if it's finally broken her.

Somehow it he doesn't think it's that simple, and she's changing the rules of the game on him.

"Cameron."

She looks up, wariness etched along her face.

"Still fighting with Wilson?" Goading her is rapidly becoming more than he wants.

She shrugs the act nonchalant but he sees the tension in her frame. "We're not fighting. Only you would think that."

"Apparently only I and everyone else in this hospital that sees the two of you interact." He pauses, moving closer to her, "No, wait, it couldn't be…it's not because you were defending poor old me?"

She shifts away, the sarcasm cutting through her and she tilts her head defiantly. "I wasn't defending you; I just didn't believe that what he did was right. Maybe I just don't believe in the reasons why he did it."

He stares at her, gauging her words. "But isn't it about right and wrong for you, Cameron? Black and white, it's that simple. Unless-," he pauses, "-unless you've started to see the shades of grey."

She turns back to the desk to sort through her papers. "Why do you think it's easy to define me, to put me into a category? You know I'll keep surprising you."

She pushes past him, clutching a file to her chest. Opening the door to the corridor, she turns back, "Honestly House, it's what keeps you coming back for more."

He watches her as she walks towards the elevators. Every time he thinks he has her solved, she throws another piece into the puzzle. It was fast becoming unsettling.

He follows her into the hall and turns towards Cuddy's office. Might as well find a way to amuse himself somehow. He almost turned around again when he sees Wilson approaching and his instinct is to run and avoid.

Because it would be easier to tell him off, to tell him to stay out of his life, to leave him alone. It's what he does best. (and they were done, he keeps telling himself that)

But he thinks about how much he misses Wilson's company (secretly) and deep inside he knows that Wilson really is the only person he can count on. So instead of walking away, instead of turning tail and rushing off, he faces him.

He knows that Wilson has made the gesture, approaching him on Christmas Eve, but he wasn't ready. Wasn't sure that he ever would be. He wonders if it was Wilson who called the ambulance, if it was Wilson that had him finally checked in to a hospital, but he doesn't know for sure.

So if all the maybes and not sures fall into place, he could be ready.

But as he hesitates to say (what he doesn't know), it's Wilson who passes him by without a glance, Wilson who looks dejectedly forward, ignoring House's sardonic glance.

He thinks he hates him a little for that.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you to Cara for the look over. I appreciate it!_

* * *

No longer haunted him light Guinevere;

But watching o'er him often did appear

Instead, his boyhood's love, her sister fair,

Who loved him, only him, and loved him well,--

Sweet maid, too early crowned with asphodel.—

_King Arthur in Avalon by SARA HAMMOND PALFREY_

Avoiding everything is easier because she finally understands what's happening. She's trapped in this maze of her own doing and finally, finally thinks she can find her way out. The signs were already there, she just needed to gather the courage to change.

Wilson thinks he knows her secrets, thinks he understands who she is but he has no idea. So she smiles, holding onto the falseness that everything has become, and allows it to trickle away into nothingness and she moves forward. He tries to bargain with her (seems so easy really) and she just nods and pretends.

Pretending comes naturally to her now.

She sees the shadows for what they are and tonight, she thinks it might be time to come out from hiding in them. She's been doing it for far too long. Everything's changed, she's changed and she wonders (not for the first time) if she should heed Foreman's advice and run. Run as fast as she can before it's too late.

Foreman's gone, she's manipulated Chase enough, Wilson hides and House, well House will never change. She understands this now.

She hears a soft tap on the glass of the conference door and looks up from gathering papers together. She had been lost in thought and was haphazardly stuffing them into her bag. Wilson is standing in the doorway and she sighs softly as he greets her.

"Dr. Cameron, You're here late." It comes out more of a question than a statement. "I thought maybe House was still here."

She finishes stuffing paper and leans over to grab her coat from the hook on the wall. "I thought you knew him better than that. Long gone, Dr. Wilson, long gone."

Moving towards the door, her intent is only on leaving. She has decisions to make (she's already made them) and bantering with Wilson isn't high on priority list for the night.

He side steps to let her pass, shaking his head silently. She wants to scream, to yell at the top of her lungs that he knows nothing about her, wants to slap the smug smile off of his face but she does what she always does. She's the good one after all, and smiles.

"Goodnight, Dr. Wilson."

She can fee the weight of his gaze on her and decides to take the stairs out of the building. It was that much faster.

* * *

Sometimes they die, sometimes they live. Tonight, they were lucky Marina lived; her husband's gratitude toward House endless. 

She knew why she was so calm, she was ready and it was time.

She had made her peace with Foreman earlier tonight (and in a way with the hurt he had caused her) by presenting him with the article he had written, framed. She acknowledged to herself that Chase was acting in the only way her could and she owed him a little for that.

She wonders when kissing became another way of pretending.

She makes her way down the corridor to House's office, letter in hand and of course, it's Wilson who corners her before she gets there.

"Allison." She steps back slightly in surprise, no one uses her name and she smirks inside at the mystical thought that maybe there was truth in that there was power in a persons' name. She almost laughs at loud at the thought.

Wilson steps forward, closing the gap and repeats her name. He looks down at the letter she's carrying (she doesn't bother to hide it) and sighs heavily. He starts to run his fingers through his hair and paces slightly.

"You too?"

She nods slightly, lips curling at the insanity of all this. For the first time in a long time (she can't even remember when last) she's happy. She puts her hand on his arm, staying his rocking motions. It calms him slightly and she smiles up at him, and she knows she's not pretending this time. "It's time."

"He can change; give him some time (another chance goes unspoken)."

She laughs out loud (who's the naïve one now), "Do you believe that for one minute, James?"

Wilson starts at the use of his name and stares back at her as if he's seeing her for the first time (really seeing her). He shrugs his shoulders, "I thought that maybe you could (change him). He's different with you sometimes harder, pushing you away, but different. I think if you left now, after everything that's happened this year, you could break him."

She stares back at him, "I think he's already broken and I don't have strength to fix him."

"I thought you loved him enough to see him through anything. Protect him from anyone."

She looks down at the floor for a brief second and side steps him towards House's office. "I think I've finally decided to love myself a little bit more."

The words float in the air behind her retreating back.

* * *

She's waiting for him, sitting in his chair. She fingers the gray collar of her suit coat as she waits, turning the letter over and over in her hand. She knows how this will play out and she's determined to walk away unscathed. 

"You now have a bigger office than I do, why don't you go enjoy it."

She doesn't hesitate but walks over to him and hands the letter over. His sarcasm over naked pictures washes over her, and the surprise that flares in his eyes (even for a second) was worth all of this. She looks at him and she knows she'll miss him, miss all of this.

She's not surprised when she says the words out loud because she knows that it's sincere, one of the most real things she's said in a long time.

She thinks, maybe in the end, she's won after all.


End file.
